


A Familiar Stranger

by storieaddict



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2013-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-29 05:16:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/683251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storieaddict/pseuds/storieaddict
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle still has amnesia and Mulan and Aurora make a sudden (and physically hazardous) appearance in Storybrooke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Familiar Stranger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Heartisakaleidoscope's Secret Valentine's Day Gift!](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Heartisakaleidoscope%27s+Secret+Valentine%27s+Day+Gift%21).



                She was sitting quietly staring very hard at the television screen in front of her.  She really was not interested in the rubbish that was being shown—the sexual exploits of Small Town, Soap Opera USA were not the riveting drama they tried to be.  She was only looking at the television because that’s what the other people in the room were doing, which meant that’s what she was supposed to be doing as well.  If she started talking, she would start asking questions.  If she started asking questions, she would get sedated again.  She had lost hours—days, really—to the hazy medicine they continued to shoot into her. 

                She knew what she had seen.  The man—that scary, strange little man with the cup—had _healed_ her by waving his hand over her shoulder.  Then, he had waved his hand again and a fireball had _appeared_ in it.  It was _magic_. 

                _I am not crazy—I know what I saw_ , her inner voice sounded irritated and distressingly unconvincing.  She had seen the distraught little man throw fire after he had healed her.  And he called her Belle.  Why was everyone calling her Belle? Her name wasn’t Belle. What was her name? 

                Thoughts began jumbling in her head—confusing her, upsetting her.  She tried to slow her breathing when the nurse sitting behind the desk glanced her way.  _Breathe in, breathe out,_ she told herself, calming.

                _He also called me beautiful_ , she reminded herself.  It was the only nice memory she currently had—the strange little man calling her beautiful as he tried to calm her down.  Sure, the citizens of Storybrooke kept visiting and bringing her gifts from home, but the way they looked at her—with pity and concern when she couldn’t remember them—it was just as unpleasant as waking up with a bullet hole in her shoulder.

                When she heard the commotion out in the hallway, her dark curly head jerked toward the sound—blue eyes wide and wary for new danger.  She could hear the sound of running feet and hear Dr. Whale being paged in the emergency room.  She wondered if someone else was having a lousy day.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

                Mulan paced the hallways like a panther caught in a cage.  She ran her hand through her straight hair in frustration—why wasn’t someone telling her what was going on? Aurora had been with the healers for far too long, something must have gone wrong. 

                “Why aren’t they sedating you?” a small voice accused from the doorway.

                Mulan pivoted, it couldn’t really be called a turn when her body shifted for a fight, spotting the petite brunette in the doorway, “Belle?!” she exclaimed.  Mulan hadn’t seen her since Belle had left the Yaogai hunt years ago.

                Belle looked at her suspiciously, “Why does everyone call me that?”

                Mulan’s brow furrowed, “It’s your name.”

                “No, it isn’t,” Belle insisted stubbornly, “And why do you get to prowl around here angry, but the minute I raise my voice, they’re shooting me full of something to knock me out?”

                Mulan was visibly confused, “You told me your name is Belle—when we knew each other—before,” Mulan was not someone who was skilled at conversation, but she believed in being honest.

                Belle glared at her, “What else do you know about me?”

                “Only that your love of books is both wise and useful,” Mulan shrugged.  She then raised one dark brow, “Don’t you remember me?”

                “No,” Belle looked down glumly, “I don’t remember anything.”

                “Is it a curse?” Mulan asked gently.

                Belle shrugged, “Every time I so much as mention magic, I get drugged and sent to my room. How do you know about curses?” A flicker of curiosity crept across Belle’s features as she studied Mulan’s outfit.

                “You taught me to notice them,” Mulan nodded at her, a very small smile on her face.

                “Hmmm,” Belle made the non-committal sound through her nose, “I don’t remember teaching anyone anything.”

                “Oh I’d let you teach me a thing or two, Lass,” drawled a lazy voice from the hallway. Before Mulan could draw her sword, Hook emerged around the doorframe and slung his good arm around Belle’s shoulders, pulling her back against his body and leaving his hook free to threaten her.  “Tsk, tsk,” Hook winked at Mulan, which made her skin crawl, “the lady and I were just having a conversation.”

                Mulan’s eyes narrowed, “the last time I saw you, you gave me Aurora’s heart,” she nearly spat, “and now you’re threatening innocent women under curses?”

                “Aurora’s heart was good form,” Hook sneered, “this,” he gripped Belle a little tighter, “is good business.”

                Belle was trembling in Hook’s embrace, but more from outrage than from fear, “I remember you—you were in the accident.  You were hit by the car,” Hook grunted an assent, “what business do you have with me?”

                “The other man who was with you,” Hook spoke softly, leaning down until his lips ghosted along the shell of Belle’s ear—she shuddered, repulsed, “the one with the cane—my crocodile—he’s left town, but I know he’d never leave you without giving you a way to contact him.  I want you to contact him and get him back here so we can finish what we started at the town line.”

                Mulan could only watch as Hook leaned into Belle, inhaling the scent of her hair, skimming his nose at Belle’s temple he said, “Unless you’d like me to question you some place more private, sweetheart.”

                “That’s not my name either,” Belle growled and without warning she jammed right elbow into Hook’s cracked ribs—hard.  The pirate gave a gasp of pain and doubled over, releasing his hold on Belle long enough for her to shake him off and step into a fighting stance.  Before Hook could respond, Belle swung her arm and punched him squarely in the eye, snapping his head back. 

                Hook dropped like a stone.

                Mulan nudged the pirate’s unconscious form with the tip of her boot, “I don’t think you’ll be cursed for long,” she commented to Belle.

                “What makes you say that?” Belle gasped as the adrenaline continued to pound through her veins.

                “That escape and punch you just pulled?” Mulan nodded at Hook in a heap on the linoleum, “I taught you how to do that.  You remember more than you think.”

                Belle smiled, “Really?”

                Just then Dr. Whale rushed into the waiting room, “Belle?” he stopped short seeing her there, “what are you doing out of the long-term-care ward?”

                “She’s with me,” Mulan put her hand on Belle’s shoulder and gestured at Hook with her other, “he’s not.”

                Dr. Whale swallowed, “I’ll get security in here,” he started to walk out when he turned back, “Oh, and Aurora will be fine—she came through surgery and will wake up in a few hours.” He walked out to go get someone to deal with Hook.

                Mulan relaxed with the good news, “Well,” she said looking up at Belle, “I have a few hours—why don’t we find some place to talk so I can reintroduce myself.”

                “I’d like that,” Belle said, and led her to a different waiting room where they could hide—at least until Belle’s next dosage was due. 


End file.
